


Pause

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Fic War, M/M, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kougami promised to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pause

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, sort of.

Rough hands swept Ginoza's hair back from his sweat-soaked forehead. A kiss pressed to his cheek, a reassurance whispered in his ear. “I'm here, Gino. I'm here.”

The shaking stopped. Ginoza managed to breathe again. When he calmed, Kougami rested his chin on Ginoza's shoulder and murmured, “Nightmares again?”

Ginoza nodded.

“What was it?”

Ginoza shrugged.

He didn't know. He never remembered, only knew that they were becoming more frequent. And when he woke up, heart thudding fast enough to explode, he felt only one thing.

The sick, paralyzing knowledge that he'd lost Kougami.

And yet every time he woke up, Kougami was right there to comfort him.

It was just a nightmare, his fears coming out to play when his defenses were down. Not all the time, but sometimes. He hated them.

But he had Kougami. The nightmares weren't true.

*

“There is nothing I would like more than to murder the guy who conducted this interview.”

Ginoza turned from where he was reading a report at his desk, saw Kagari glaring at his own screen, headphones partially knocked off his head.

“What is that?”

“Look at this. From another precinct that wants us to take this one because they have, according to this guy, 'bigger fish to fry.'” He took out the headphones and turned the computer monitor towards Ginoza.

On screen was a video, a large detective sitting in an interrogation room across from a young man. The young man had red hair, a darker shade than Kagari's, and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor. The sound was low, but Ginoza could hear the detective yelling. The detective slammed his hand against the table, and the young man jumped and cried out.

“He's treating him like he fucking killed someone,” Kagari said.

“What was he arrested for?”

“Selling drugs. Pills, more specifically. He looks like he might be on them,” Kagari told him, “but the blood results won't come in until tomorrow. But if he was, it'll be a nasty withdrawal. We have to be nicer to him than this asshat.”

“You want Kougami to interrogate him?” Ginoza asked.

Kagari laughed, too loud. “Hell no! Kougami would scare the pants off this kid. I want you to.”

“Me?”

“I mean, you're a grumpy bastard but you have a dog.”

“Kougami lives with me,” Ginoza pointed out. “Dime is his, too.”

“We all know who really got the dog,” Kagari said.

Ginoza frowned at the screen. “When do we get him?”

“Tomorrow. I know you had the day off, but can you maybe move it?”

Ginoza adjusted his glasses. “Fine.”

*

Kougami was waiting for him with a glass of whiskey and Dime cuddled up against him on the couch.

Ginoza shrugged off his coat, took off his shoes, and made his way over, sitting on Dime's other side and scratching the huge dog behind the ears. “Hello, Dime. How was your day?”

“His day was good, and so was mine,” Kougami said, reaching out to flick Ginoza's hair. “In case you were wondering.”

Ginoza looked up from Dime to find Kougami smirking at him. “I wasn't.” He smirked back. Kougami leaned forward to kiss the smirk off his lips.

Dime made a whining noise, which they both ignored. Kougami cupped Ginoza's cheek with his hand, drew him close, kissed him deeper. Ginoza returned the kiss, sank into it. He loved when Kougami was affectionate like this. Soon, somehow, Ginoza ended up curled against Kougami, and Dime was on the floor looking up at them like he had been betrayed somehow.

About an hour into this, Kougami's stomach growled. He shifted. “I guess dinner should be a thing.”

“Mmm.” Ginoza didn't move. He was completely relaxed, half asleep on Kougami's chest.

“Gino,” Kougami prodded. “We gotta eat. Some of us have work tomorrow.”

“I have work tomorrow,” Ginoza murmured.

“What?”

“I promised Kagari I'd do something for him.”

“When was the last time you had off?”

“We went to the beach,” Ginoza said, smiling to himself.

Kougami sighed. “Take that day soon.”

“Take it with me.”

“Maybe.” Kougami shifted Ginoza's weight off him. “I'm gonna order take out.”

“Fine.” Ginoza watched as Kougami went into the kitchen to make the call. Dime, sensing an opportunity, jumped up next to him, resting his head in Ginoza's lap. Ginoza idly ran his fingers through Dime's fur.

Kougami didn't return. He was probably taking too long looking through the menu. Ginoza drifted in and out of being half-asleep. Then the doorbell rang.

“Food!” Kougami yelled.

Ginoza groaned, stretched. Dime made a disgruntled noise but moved his head so that Ginoza could stand. Which he did.

Sharp, hot pain burst through his chest. He felt like he was being torn apart. He screamed, or felt like he was screaming as the pain radiated outward, consuming his entire body. The edges of his vision started to distort, he felt like he couldn't breathe. His knees gave out, and everything went

white.

*

“I'm going to be interrogating Hinakawa Sho today,” Kougami said.

“Fuck off,” Kagari muttered.

Ginoza adjusted his tie, adjusted his glasses. “Play nice.”

“He's only nineteen,” Kagari said. “Kou would eat him alive.”

“I eat all delinquents alive,” Kougami said.

“You're just a delinquent with a badge and a gun,” Ginoza muttered. Kougami nudged him hard, in the elbow, which sent pain up Ginoza's arm. He winced.

“Anyway,” Kagari said, “if you two could stop fooling around-”

“It sounds like you really feel for the kid,” Kougami said. “Maybe you should go in there.”

“You're just upset you haven't had to interrogate anyone recently,” Kagari told him.

“You're allowed to come in with me, you know,” Ginoza said. “It's a good experience.”

“I'll watch from outside, if that's okay,” Kagari said.

“He would be detrimental to the investigation,” Kougami said, laughing.

“Shut up!”

Ginoza turned away from the both of them and headed into the interrogation room, where Hinakawa Sho sat at one end of a metal table. The room felt chilly, the air biting through Ginoza's suit and nipping at his skin. Hinakawa looked incredibly pale. His hands, long-fingered and bone-thin, were chained to the table. He kept fiddling with what he could reach of his shirt sleeves.

Ginoza closed the door behind him and sat down, placing a manila folder in front of him. Case files. He also took out a notepad and pen. The whole time, Hinakawa kept his eyes trained on his hands.

“Good morning,” he said. “My name is Detective Ginoza Nobuchika.”

“I'm H-hinakawa.”

“I know. I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Y-you're not g-going to yell at me, a-are you?” Hinakawa asked.

“No.”

Hinakawa seemed to relax, slightly, at this.

“According to the other precinct, you were brought in on charges for selling prescription drugs illegally,” Ginoza said. “Your apartment was searched, and these drugs were found, as was money. Your computer is being analyzed, but they were unable to get into the device, so it has been transferred to our precinct for further testing.”

“U-unless you h-have an expert,” Hinakawa said, “y-you won't g-get in.”

“Why not?”

“I'm an expert at c-computer s-security and p-programming.”

“Okay. What if you guided us through it?” Ginoza asked. Hinakawa didn't answer. “Moving that aside for now, is there anything you would like to say about the presence of these large quantities of pills in your apartment? To my knowledge most of them consisted of strong psychiatric drugs and opiates.”

Hinakawa remained silent. Ginoza shifted the papers in front of him, found the one he wanted.

“According to your medical records, you have only been legally prescribed a small amount of anti-anxiety medication. Are you the one who obtained the rest of the medications, or was someone supplying them to you?”

Hinakawa still didn't say anything.

“Does your being an expert at computer programming have anything to do with it? Can you hack into, say, a medical database and manipulate the files?”

This time Hinakawa looked up, shocked and pale. His eyes widened when they met Ginoza's, but he didn't immediately try to hide his face, as Ginoza expected he would. Instead he stared at Ginoza head on.

“Mr. Hinakawa?” Ginoza prompted.

“M-Mr. Ginoza,” Hinakawa stuttered, leaning back, straining against his chains. “I-I can't be here anymore.”

“What?” Ginoza frowned.

“Th-this place r-reminds me of, of d-death.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I-I don't l-like hospitals,” Hinakawa whispered, his breath coming in short gasps. He tore his eyes away from Ginoza, trying to yank his hands back from the table. Tears sprang to his eyes when he realized he was stuck.

“You're in an interrogation room,” Ginoza said. “Is it because I mentioned a medical database?”

“I-I'm sorry,” Hinakawa sobbed. “I c-can't do this. I sh-should be able to but I c-can't.”

Ginoza half-stood. “I don't understand. Do what? Confess?”

Kagari burst into the room, shot a glare at Ginoza, and then crossed the table to stand in front of Hinakawa. “Focus on me. Don't focus on him.”

Slowly, Hinakawa lifted his eyes to focus on Kagari.

“What are you so scared of?” Kagari asked.

Hinakawa bit his lip. “Him.”

A strange buzzing filled Ginoza's head, as Hinakawa once again turned towards him, eyes wide and scared. He muttered something, wasn't even sure what was coming out of his mouth, but the interrogation room suddenly felt like a prison, too bright and hot, and he stumbled into the office.

A hand landed on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Gino?”

Ginoza gasped for air, the coldness of the office crashing into him. “Kou?”

Kougami stared at him with concern. “What happened?”

“I don't know.” Distantly, he heard an incessant tapping. It took him a second to feel his teeth clicking together, matching the noise. Kougami grabbed his wrists.

“You're shaking, Gino.”

Ginoza's whole body felt like it was going to fall apart. He shuddered, too cold suddenly, his head full of cotton and a strange fear that matched the look Hinakawa had given him back in that room.

“What happened?”

Ginoza collapsed against Kougami's chest, felt Kougami's arms wrap around him. Felt like Kougami was the only thing keeping him together.

“I don't know, I don't know.”

*

The food Kougami had ordered for dinner looked incredible. It smelled amazing. And Ginoza could only pick at it.

It felt like something was stuck in his throat, and no matter how many times he swallowed, he had the sensation of being half-suffocated.

He was too aware of breathing. He didn't want to swallow anything.

“You look pale,” Kougami said. “What's wrong?”

Ginoza stabbed at the piece of meat. He didn't want to explain it. Kougami should have known he wasn't feeling well since earlier, but now Kougami sounded confused.

They ate in silence. Or Kougami ate, and Ginoza played with his food.

“Are you sick?” Kougami asked.

“What do you think?” Ginoza snapped.

“You were fine earlier,” Kougami said. “You're the one who ordered this.” He looked annoyed.

“I did not.” Ginoza pushed his plate back. “Why would I want to order anything after today?”

“What does that mean?” Kougami asked.

“You were there.”

“And it was fine,” Kougami said. “Shion got into that kid's computer, found proof of him opening accounts to sell drugs to people, hacking into hospital and pharmacy computer systems. He actually talked to me.”

“What?” Ginoza looked up from his food to Kougami's face, but there was nothing to indicate Kougami was lying. He suddenly felt very detached from the whole situation, light-headed. “That...”

“You seriously don't look well,” Kougami said. “Come on. I'll save this for tomorrow.” He stood up, walked over to Ginoza and helped him. Ginoza allowed himself to be manipulated by Kougami's hands like some puppet, because it seemed that out of the two of them, Kougami was the only one with any certainty. Ginoza felt like he was debris being swept down a river.

Kougami led him to the bedroom, sat Ginoza on the bed and undid his tie, skipped off his jacket. “I'm not sure how much you want to get changed,” he said.

“I don't care,” Ginoza mumbled, swaying. He just wanted to lie down and sleep. Every bone in his body felt dead tired, and he was already falling.

He opened his eyes to find Kougami laying in front of him. Smiling at him. Brushing his hair out of his face.

“I love you,” Kougami murmured. “Gino.”

“I love you, too,” Ginoza tried to say, but the words wouldn't come out. The sensation of something in his throat was stronger now, and he only managed to make a strangled sound. Kougami didn't notice. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ginoza's lips.

Kougami's lips felt incredibly warm and smooth against Ginoza's. The warmth flooded through him and then suddenly was replaced by ice cold.

*

Beeping. White. Cold. A steady rhythm increasing in speed. A touch ghosting over numb hands.

“It's okay. I'm here.”

Quiet.

*

The night passed in a matter of seconds. Ginoza opened his eyes and Kougami was still there, asleep. The weight of the blanket made him feel like he should be warm, but there was a chill deep in his bones that made him shiver. The movement woke Kougami; his eyes fluttered open and he offered Ginoza a small smile.

Something shifted at the end of the bed. Ginoza raised his head slightly, caught sight of Dime lounging at his feet. He turned back to Kougami and smiled, despite the cold, because he had everything he wanted in one place.

“Is it time to get ready for work?” Kougami muttered, making to check his phone.

Ginoza placed a hand on Kougami's arm, keeping him still. “A few more minutes?”

Kougami nodded, settling back into the bed. “Sleep well?”

“Yes. You?”

“Very. I was thinking last night.”

“Thinking? I didn't know you thought.”

Kougami nudged Ginoza in the arm. Ginoza winced, the pain that it caused not matching what Kougami had actually done. He became aware of how uncomfortable it felt, how it lingered. But he smirked at Kougami's offended expression.

“Anyway,” Kougami said, “I was talking to Kagari and I think we can offer this kid a deal. He's young. He wasn't brought up in a good environment. He shouldn't have to rot away in prison.”

“That's...oddly kind of you,” Ginoza said.

“I can be kind,” Kougami said. “Maybe it's because you wanted us to be nice to him.”

“Since when do you care about being nice to people?” Ginoza asked.

“I don't know.” Kougami shrugged. “Since I moved in with you?”

“I'm not kind.”

“You're more kind than I am.” Kougami raised his hand to brush Ginoza's cheek. Ginoza shivered.

“I'm not kind,” he repeated. _I just don't want to lose anyone else_ , he thought.

“Sometimes I think you don't know yourself at all,” Kougami said. “You spend so much time worrying about me, and the others at the office. You could probably tell me all kinds of things, good and bad, about my personality.”

“You've gotten better,” Ginoza said.

“And yet you still have nothing good to say about yourself.”

“I know when to stop,” Ginoza said. “I stay for people.”

“That's true,” Kougami said. “You stayed with me even though I'm a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Now you're the one saying nothing good,” Ginoza teased.

Kougami's expression turned serious. “I say good things about myself all the time. But I know my faults. I know my biggest fault.” He shifted, pushed himself into a sitting position, his hand pulling away from Ginoza's cheek.

Ginoza sat up, too, missing the warmth and the touch already. “Kou?”

Kougami stared down at his hands, which lay in his lap. He clenched them into fists. “I think you know them, too.”

“You can be too rough,” Ginoza said. “You can get obsessed.”

“You're skipping over the biggest one,” Kougami said. “What are you most afraid of?”

A sick feeling swept through Ginoza. His own hands were shaking. “It would never happen.”

“Say it.”

“Why?” Ginoza raised his voice. “It won't happen.”

“I'll say it if you won't.”

“You don't need to.”

“My biggest flaw is-”

“Kougami,” Ginoza snapped.

Kougami looked up at him, blue eyes like thick ice. “That I would leave you behind.”

Ginoza opened his mouth, eyes burning, but Kougami suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, expression twisted in anger.

“You don't know me at all,” he hissed. Then he pulled back his arm, and drove his fist into Ginoza's chest.

Ginoza screamed. The room went black, then white, and he was falling and falling and then slammed onto a surface that felt like his bed, but different, and he tried to arch up, tried to escape the pain, but it didn't go away, and he continued screaming. There were voices, and someone grabbed his hand and squeezed it, and he squeezed back, trying to make the other person squeeze harder, to bend the bones of his hand to near breaking if only to distract from the pain in his chest, and the pain of not being able to breathe, the suffocating feeling and his hand was the only thing he could move and he wanted to scream but something was stuck in his throat and he was trapped and Kougami wasn't the one holding his hand, this hand felt smaller and smoother and he was gone, he'd left, left Ginoza with this pain and he didn't know where he was and he wanted to go back and he didn't want to open his eyes because he was afraid of what he might see or not see, and his throat was raw from screams that no one could hear.

*

“He's awake.”

Akane jumped out of her seat, ready to run out of the waiting room. Then she stopped, and asked the nurse, “Can I see him?”

The nurse nodded. Akane followed him into Ginoza's room. He was still hooked up to machines, but the breathing tube had been removed, replaced by a mask over his mouth and nose. His eyes were glassy, open, confused. He looked at her and Akane felt strange as she stepped up to the bed. Like he was seeing her, but not.

“He's having a hard time speaking,” the nurse said. “We've tested for any brain injury and there isn't any, but he does seem very confused. This can be common for people coming out of a coma, but I don't want you to be alarmed.”

Akane nodded, not taking her eyes off Ginoza. He'd lost weight that he didn't need to lose, appeared to be swallowed up by the hospital bed. There were less machines keeping him alive now.

“Ginoza,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I'm so glad to see you awake.”

Ginoza's lips moved underneath his mask, but only a hissing sound came out.

“You don't have to say anything,” Akane said.

Ginoza's mouth moved again, his eyes taking on a desperate look. Akane leaned in closer, and finally, she heard his words.

“Awake from what?”

She felt cold. He didn't remember. Which meant he would have to learn all over again. But there was time. She took his cool hand in hers and rubbed gentle circles into his palm. “I'll explain later. Right now, you should rest.”

*

The oxygen mask came off, as did more of the tubes. The PSB had a wonderful medical staff, and Ginoza would be allowed to go home soon. Akane visited him as often as possible between her shifts, glad to see that he was recovering.

Physically.

She noticed during her visits that with each step forward he seemed more agitated, like he wanted to say something but couldn't voice it. He barely talked to her, only exchanged pleasantries. He always told her he was fine. When she came in, he always seemed to be looking past her.

The doctors wanted to release him. Akane wasn't sure if that was a good idea. It was an instinct, the kind of instinct Ginoza still rebelled against at times that wasn't backed up by anything definitive, but it was strong. She didn't want him home, and she didn't want him back in the field.

“I want a psychiatric evaluation,” she said, and it was granted.

The psychiatrist spent an hour with Ginoza, concluded that something was wrong, that something had happened during the coma, but that it was likely due to his mind trying to process the trauma of his injury. Ginoza remembered everything before he was in the hospital, except what got him there, according to the psychiatrist. The suggested next step was to tell Ginoza about what had gotten him in the hospital, see if it jogged memories of the event, and go from there based on his reaction. Akane would talk to him, because it seemed more likely that Ginoza would open up to someone he trusted. He was hiding things from the doctors and the psychiatrist.

She walked into his room, seeing him for the first time in weeks unfettered by tubes. Only a single IV remained in his arm, kept there because he barely ate. He was sitting up now, picking at a plate of noodles, which he pushed aside when he saw her coming. She pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat down, watching him carefully. He wouldn't look at her.

“Ginoza, you don't remember what happened, do you?” she asked.

Ginoza shook his head.

Akane took a deep breath, ready to explain, but suddenly Ginoza said, “I feel like I'm dreaming.”

“What?”

“Maybe you can tell me.” His voice was hoarse. “This feels...not real.”

“Maybe knowing what happened will explain it,” Akane said. Her hands clutched at each other. She wanted to hold his hand, but she didn't. He would hate her in a few minutes for reminding him of things he probably wanted to forget.

Ginoza nodded, pale. Tense, knowing it wouldn't be good.

“A few terrorists snuck in from overseas,” Akane said. “We were called out to suppress them and capture as many alive as possible for interrogation. Our division split into two groups: you, me, and Hinakawa, and then Shimotsuki, Kunizuka, and Sugo. The terrorists found us first.”

“Terrorists,” Ginoza repeated, slow.

Akane nodded. She had replayed that day over and over again, not because she could change anything, but because it just wouldn't leave her alone. It had been a ghost hanging over her shoulder. It suffocated her now, as she heard the noises and saw what was happening, Ginoza disappearing from her field of vision, replaced with the docklands and the crack of guns.

“Akane,” Ginoza said, softly.

Akane tried to slow her breathing. And she told him.

*

_It was a nightmare made real. A matter of who would shoot first. Ginoza trained his dominator on his once-friend, the weapon ready to fire a lethal shot that would turn Kougami Shinya into nothing but body parts. Across from him, Kougami had his gun pointed at Ginoza's head._

“ _I'm not coming with you.”_

_Akane had her dominator on another terrorist. Also lethal eliminator. Taking either one of these men alive would mean negotiation, not shooting._

_She wanted to take Kougami in alive._

_She knew Ginoza felt the same way._

“ _Kougami, you won't be killed if you come with us,” Ginoza said._

“ _I'll be a prisoner, unable to do anything,” Kougami said. “I'm disappointed in you, Gino.” Akane saw him flinch at the old nickname. “Have you been brainwashed so badly that you can't see how wrong you are?”_

“ _I'm not letting you walk away,” Ginoza said. “Not again.”_

“ _I'm not staying,” Kougami said. “So either you come with me or you shoot me.”_

“ _I don't want to shoot you,” Ginoza said, quiet._

_This was where it would all fall apart. This was where Akane wished she was in his place. But maybe she could never be. Ginoza and Kougami were friends, were once-lovers, and now were enemies, and whatever they would become, it had to play itself out. She could only watch._

_She wished Ginoza had it in him to be more cruel. She wished he didn't. She liked that he couldn't be as cruel as his words sometimes suggested. She hated it._

“ _Then it seems we're stuck,” Kougami said._

“ _I'm going to take you in,” Ginoza said. “Please, come back.”_

“ _No.”_

_Ginoza dropped his weapon. Akane heard it clatter to the ground. If they weren't shooting Kougami, if they were taking him in, then Ginoza would need help._

_She shot the man opposite her._

_He exploded, and she turned around to see Ginoza rush at Kougami, heedless of the gun Kougami still held aloft. Because Kougami's life had been in Ginoza's hands many times, and Ginoza had never pulled the trigger. Because Ginoza trusted Kougami to make the same choice._

_Kougami didn't._

_He shot Ginoza several times, each bullet hitting him in the chest. Not the head, where he'd been aiming before, and maybe that was the only mercy Kougami Shinya was capable of now. Ginoza fell to his knees, and Akane trained her dominator on Kougami, and he looked up at her, gun still pointed at Ginoza. She walked closer._

“ _I'll shoot,” Kougami said, and she believed him. Stopped in her tracks._

_Lowered her gun._

_Kougami turned, and ran, and she let him go, and rushed to Ginoza bleeding out on the ground. He was barely conscious, and when she turned him on his side he raised a blood-slick hand to grab at her sleeve._

_He didn't say anything._

“ _I'm sorry,” Akane whispered. He passed out._

_She held him until backup arrived._

*

She didn't expect anger.

“He wouldn't do that,” Ginoza snarled, hands clutching at his blanket, teeth bared, eyes wide and scared. “He would never do that. He never left. He loves me.”

“He did,” Akane said. “There's footage of the entire fight from security cameras-”

“I don't want to see it. This isn't true.”

“What do you mean?”

Ginoza shook his head, the motion unsteady. “This isn't true. This is a sick dream.”

“I'm sorry, it's-”

“Kougami would never leave me,” Ginoza shouted, voice breaking. “He loves me!”

His shoulders shook, and suddenly he doubled over, a loud keening sound escaping from his lips.

“Where is he?” he sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself, rocking back and forth. Akane half-stood, tried to reach out to touch Ginoza, to comfort him, but he jerked away. “Where is he? He loves--” Another sob, harsh, too loud. Ginoza's entire body lurched forward. “I f-feel sick. I feel sick.” His breaths became wheezes, too fast and too uncontrolled. Akane did manage to put her hand on his shoulder this time, could feel him shaking.

“It's okay,” she said. “Ginoza, I'm here. I care about you. It's okay.”

“He promised,” Ginoza choked out. “He promised. He promised.” Like a prayer, or maybe he was begging for it to be true.

A doctor rushed in, syringe in hand. “This isn't healthy for his hue,” she said, “nor for his recovery.”

“Wait-” Akane started, but the doctor injected whatever was in the syringe into Ginoza's IV, and Ginoza fell back onto the pillows, tears still tracking down his cheeks.

He stared up at Akane, fighting sleep, trying to focus on her face, but his eyes were becoming glassy. She looked back at him, helpless against the sedation.

“I want to wake up,” Ginoza whispered.

“You are awake,” Akane told him.

Ginoza shuddered, squeezed his eyes shut. His face went slack, and to Akane it looked like relief.

She rushed out of the room.

*

“Sometimes in order to deal with trauma, the brain creates...illusions,” Ginoza's doctor said once she found Akane in the waiting room. “Dreams, I suppose. They can be quite detailed and realistic, which can be troublesome for one's mental state. We're going to suggest psychiatric care for Enforcer Ginoza until he's stabilized enough to go back into the field.”

“But you think he will be stabilized?” Akane asked.

The doctor nodded, and Akane nearly sank into the chair with relief.

The walk back to the office was long. The others would want to know what happened, now that Ginoza was finally awake and almost medically cleared. She didn't want to tell them, so she took a detour to the balcony where she'd spent many days thinking. She had to think. She didn't want to be in denial. Otherwise the facts would crush her eventually. She had to face them head on.

Ginoza's mind had formed its own world to keep him from the trauma of the hospital and the medical procedures, and from the betrayal. It allowed him to forget, but Ginoza would never get back to that world, and believing that he could would only hurt him in the long run. They needed to have a talk. She needed to make sure he understood, from someone that he trusted.

And he did trust her. He'd opened up to her, however wrong it had gone. She would hang onto that, no matter how small a thing it was, if it would bring him back.

She didn't want to lose him.

She couldn't.

*

Ginoza had been moved to a temporary holding cell, dressed in soft hospital clothes and supervised at all hours of the day. Akane helped plan his treatment. She didn't want him to be sedated all the time. That would only allow him more reasons to believe that this was a dream, and not the other way around. He was given sleeping aids, and sometimes medication to help him calm down when he panicked. When he became uncertain of his surroundings, of the facts of his life.

It would be hard to change that.

“We were happy,” he told her, when she came to see him. When she asked him why he would hold on to his illusions. He'd never gone into detail about what they were, what he'd seen and experienced in his time unconscious. But his answer made sense to her. “Everyone was alive, and he stayed.”

She didn't quite know what to say to that. Except, “I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't real, anyway,” Ginoza said, sounding only half convinced. One hand gripped the armrest of the chair he was sitting in too tight. His real arm. His prosthetic arm rested on the table.

“Still, it felt real, I'm sure,” Akane said.

“It was better,” Ginoza said, looking away from her, as if ashamed. “Sometimes...I don't know. I don't know which one is real.”

“We'll help you with that,” Akane said.

“It makes me feel like I'm not real.” He tensed, shivered. “I'm useless like this. Maybe it would be better if I'd stayed in-”

“Don't say that,” Akane cut him off. “I'm going to help you. I promise. I want you to know that even if this world is harsh, and you've lost so much, there are things worth staying for. Everyone loses something. There is no world in which people don't lose anything. You have so much to give. You've helped me so much. And I want to help you. I want you to stay.”

Ginoza stared at her, eyes wide.

“Give me your hand,” Akane said.

Slowly, he raised his real hand from his chair and held it out to her. She took it, gripping his hand tightly, trying to warm the cold skin.

“I'm real,” Akane said, “and I care about you. The others in Division One care about you. Your dog, Dime, is still here and he cares about you. We're all real. You can feel me. You haven't lost everything.”

Ginoza's fingers tightened around hers, and he clutched her hand like he didn't want to let go. “I haven't lost everything,” he repeated.

“No. We can do this. You can get your life back. Your real life.”

There were tears in Ginoza's eyes. His breath hitched. “I miss him.” He swallowed. “I wish he'd stayed.”

“Me too.”


End file.
